


I Saved My Breakdowns Just For You

by StagedWhisper



Category: Black Parade - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, Hoboken Show, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Open Relationships, Pity Sex, Porn with Feelings, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StagedWhisper/pseuds/StagedWhisper
Summary: Frank doesn’t do pity - but it has been too long since someone has looked at him like he’s something precious and special, like he’s wanted.Title from ".Stitches." by Frnkiero and the cellabration
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Mikey Way
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46





	I Saved My Breakdowns Just For You

**Author's Note:**

> Hoboken, NJ - October 2007 
> 
> [Listen to this for maximum effect](https://open.spotify.com/track/7KJHS68JnfQCC41EOvusMq)

*HOTEL ROOM IN HOBOKEN, NJ.*

Frank knows what this is. Pity. That’s the only thing in his mind as Mikey presses him against the wall of Frank’s hotel room. 

Frank doesn’t do pity. 

But it has been too long since someone has looked at him like he’s something precious and special, like he’s wanted. It’s the wrong person he wants to see this look from, the wrong brother. Frank should push away, except right now there’s a heat in Mikey’s eyes that Frank almost can’t ignore. 

“What about your -?” Frank begins to ask before he’s cut off. 

Mikey stops kissing Frank’s neck to look him in the eye, “it was her idea.” They don’t even discuss Frank’s wife, it's not a secret that they have an open agreement when it comes to... and Frank silently prays she’ll understand what’s happening now. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if _she_ was the one to bring it up to Mikey’s wife in the first place. 

“Is this gonna make us weird?” He asks. He asks because he has to put it out there - an out. 

“Only if you let it,” Mikey replies, and leans in closer to catch Frank’s jaw with his lips. “Allow me,” he says. “Relax.” 

He’s been wound up tight for weeks, months even. Everything feels like it's closing in around him, suffocating. How messed up is it, that one of his bandmates - his married, _just as fucked up if not worse,_ best friend - feels the need to resort to a pity fuck in order to cheer him up? 

Frank should say no, would say no, except he’s too hollowed out and heartsick to turn down any more affection thrown in his direction. At least he wasn’t weak enough to give in during the show, but here with Mikey, he figures this is his safest route to get a glimmer of what he longs for. His heart is too heavy to think, too heavy to worry, to heavy to even _feel_ anymore so Frank lets himself be manhandled by Mikey and drawn further into the hotel room, toward the bed. Finally, he let’s go and allows himself to want this, right now, like he’s young and carefree again. 

And then Mikey kisses him, slow and gentle and sweet enough that it hurts. Frank has joked for years about Mikey’s hookup prowess, and now he’s experiencing it for himself. _Fuck,_ he’s good at this. Frank wasn’t even aware of when Mikey pushed him down on the bed and sat to straddle his lap. His hands move everywhere and lips so fucking delicious against Frank’s tongue. 

They continue kissing, hands and mouths roaming freely. It’s hot and hard and Mikey squirms around in Frank’s lap until they finally hit a rhythm, everything clicking into place. His growing arousal only seems to strengthen Mikey’s resolve. Frank is still an impatient bastard, and feels far too hot while writhing in frustration. The look on Mikey’s face, hyper focused and too similar to his big brother, tells Frank that he has _plans._

“Mikey, please,” Frank begs. Mikey looks back innocently, giving a shrug and a tilt of the head while Frank thrashes beneath Mikey’s grasp. 

“Want you to feel so good, Frankie,” Mikey shushes him. He rubs his hands all over, from Frank’s overgrown hair and down his arms. Frank’s eyes slip shut when he feels the ghost of Mikey’s breath over his hips, hands running down to the zipper of his jeans. He pulls them off as Frank hitches his hips up to help. “Look at you,” he praises at the sight of Frank, fully exposed. “So fucking hot.” 

Frank opens his eyes, half lidded, to see the small smile tug at the corner of Mikey’s mouth as he stares. He moves to grip the top of Mikey’s bony shoulders and pushes until their foreheads meet, resting against each other as Frank’s hips thrust into the hand that was now wrapped tightly around his cock. 

“You’re the best of all of us,” Mikey says as his hand continues to pump Frank’s cock, fingers dragging against his skin, the rough ends of Mikey’s fingertips make Frank want to press up harder against them. He almost has to block out what Mikey’s saying so his head doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating. But Mikey continues, leaning to whisper right into Frank’s ear, “you are so perfect. I love you. I wanna show you how much.”

Frank whines and breathes through it, he can’t find the words to reply. Instead he squeezes tighter at Mikey’s shoulders and screws his eyes shut. Pressure builds low in his gut as his hips move in time to Mikey’s hand. 

Mikey backs up when he realizes Frank’s getting too wound up. He pulls off his shirt and Frank drinks in the sight of Mikey’s pale chest. He’s beautifully lithe and toned, Frank has spent so much of this year worried about Mikey that it comforts him to see his friend look so strong. 

“Mikey,” Frank starts to speak, but he’s quieted as Mikey puts a finger against his lips to shush him. 

“It’s okay,” Mikey says. He fumbles in his jean pockets and throws a condom and a small bottle of lube next to Frank on the bed. 

_Fucking boy scout,_ Frank thinks. He can’t believe how planned out this was, Frank knows he should feel weird about this whole situation, but the look of concern and warmth Mikey gives him just makes Frank feel safe and wanted. 

Mikey crawls off Frank’s lap and nudges him to turn over, onto his hands and knees. He quickly finishes undressing and moves to crawl back onto the bed, behind Frank. “You deserve so much, Frankie,” Mikey says while reaching for the lube. Frank squirms in anticipation, waiting for what will happen next. 

He feels Mikey’s left hand grip him, and his nerve ends are on fire as a finger swirl around his ass, teasing his hole. Mikey continues pressing in, drawing out a cacophony of sighs and moans out of Frank. They begin to lose all concept of time as they find each other. 

It’s just the right side of not enough prep, when Frank begins to beg, “fuck me. Fucking do it already.” 

Mikey’s hand stills, the tips of his fingers curl inside Frank once more, “you sure?” 

Frank nods, desperate. “Now, _please,_ ” he begs. He needs to feel the stretch, wants it to hurt. He whines as Mikey’s fingers pull out with a small pop. Frank adjusts, falling from his hands and tucking them crossed under his head while his ass raises up higher. He knows just the right angle to bury his face into the pillows and feel Mikey as deep as possible. 

Mikey’s quick to prepare himself, he rolls on a condom and adds some lube around Frank’s opening and before Frank knows it, Mikey’s pushing in. His toes and fingers curl at the stretch, it’s both too much and just right. Overwhelming. Frank’s jaw falls open as a silent cry and exhale leaves him to make room for Mikey. 

“Fuck,” Frank pants, “fucking shit Mikes.” 

“Yeah, oh. Frank… So fucking tight.” Mikey’s hand tangles in Frank’s hair and tugs, pulling Frank harder onto his cock. “So good,” he moans. Mikey’s little encouragements continue as he fucks Frank, like the damn broke and all Mikey can do is praise and moan, giving Frank all the affection and reassurance Mikey knows he’s been denied for too long. 

“Come on Frankie,” Mikey pants in his ear, his breath hot and moist against Frank’s skin. He feels Mikey’s hand wrap around his cock once again and tug. Frank lets himself be surrounded by Mikey’s limbs, arms and hands wrapped around him and hips driving up against his ass. Hopefully there’s bruises tomorrow so he can poke at them and feel something other than empty. 

His body takes over and the burning heat builds in the pit of his stomach. Mikey seems to pick up on Frank’s cues and works his hand even faster, thrusts a little harder. It’s not long before Frank moans in deep, staccato breaths, then screams into the pillow as he comes. 

Mikey follows soon after, just a few more hard thrusts. Frank’s skin is on fire, oversensitive, he feels Mikey's fingers dig in tighter as his hips move faster and eventually Mikey reaches his release. He pants into Frank's ear, pressing open mouth kisses to the tattoos on Frank's neck and back. 

After a moment to catch their breaths, Mikey wipes them both clean and pulls Frank into his arms, treating Frank like glass. As they settle, sitting up slightly with their backs to the head board, Frank feels every emotion he felt during their show earlier in the night hit him like a freight train. His pores clog with unease and he starts to shake in Mikey’s embrace. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Mikey murmurs into the top of his head, kissing it. Frank can’t stop shaking though, he can’t even try. He feels Mikey’s slender fingers brush through his hair, unfurling the curls and tugging slightly at the ends. The repetition is soothing, but Frank can’t stop trembling. 

The first sob that hitches in his throat comes out wrecked, it's an ugly tone-deaf sound that reverberates through the room. Just the one is all it takes for more to follow. Frank isn’t sure when the tears start, but before he knows it - his entire face is wet, his nose and throat feel snotty and gross. He leans into Mikey’s chest, hiding the ugliness of his breakdown against Mikey’s skin. 

Mikey scoots up a little against the headboard to let Frank burrow into him, he rocks them minutely in a calming fashion, all while keeping his arms wrapped around Frank as best as possible, using his lanky limbs to their full advantage. 

Because they all live together on a tour bus and every mode of transportation imaginable, Frank hasn’t had the chance to mourn over everything that’s happened in the last few months. As he cries - every touch, every kiss, every fuck that happened over the summer plays through his mind. He thinks of the last time he was held like this, held like he’s loved, and he feels it like a knife in the chest. The arms around him now aren’t the same, the hands in his hair are thinner, longer. Frank hates that he wishes for the one person who he no longer can have. 

It didn’t have to be like this - messy and complicated and too many hearts involved to make a clean cut. But it's the way things are and Frank finally accepts it, vowing to let this be the only time he cries over the whole situation. He knows he has to be the bigger person, that the longer his bitterness and anger seep into their friendship and into their performances the worse the wedge will grow. Frank can’t - _won’t_ \- let anything happen to the band, if that’s all he has left now. 

Once Frank’s shaking subsides, Mikey pulls them lower on the bed until they’re laying side by side, facing each other. Frank tucks a hand under his own head and Mikey slings an arm around Frank’s waist, keeping close. 

Mikey opens his mouth, and immediately shuts it, clenching his jaw. But Frank sees it out of the corner of his eye - _“what?”_

“Hmm?” Mikey’s jaw stays firm but his eyes soften. 

“What were you going to say?”

Mikey sighs and squeezes Frank’s hip tighter, “you don’t need to hear it. You should already know.” 

Frank huffs and his eyes throw daggers at Mikey’s direction, “I don’t need to hear what?” he demands again. 

“He’s scared. He’s settling, and he knows it. He _loves_ you, but he’s too afraid of it to do anything about it.” 

“You’re right, I don’t need to hear it,” Frank says, angrily. “I don’t need to hear it from anyone except him.” 

“I’m sorry though, I should have been there more this year.”

Frank’s heart clenches again, “ _Mikey no._ No. There’s nothing you could have done. You’re not his keeper.” 

“Maybe not, but I should have been around more - to back you up at least. And to knock some sense into him,” Mikey says. 

“You had to sort your shit out too.” 

“That’s why I wanna be here for you now, at least.” 

“Thank you,” Frank says earnestly. God, everything is so fucked up and he already starts to feel the guilt for sleeping together. This is at least ten different layers of _not cool._

“Stop thinking so loud,” Mikey interrupts his thoughts. Mikey’s a goddamn psychic. What the fuck did they teach him in therapy? “I wanna be here for you. It’s not gonna make anything worse.” 

In a small voice, Frank finally admits what’s really bothering him, “he’ll know.” And Frank knows it hurts Mikey to go against his own brother. Lines have been crossed and blurred and he fears he’s forcing Mikey to pick sides. 

Mikey sighs, “yeah, but tonight isn’t about him. You needed this right now and I was able to help.” 

Frank closes his eyes, he feels tears pricking at the corners of them again. And he’s already too wrung out - from first the sex then his breakdown - that he doesn’t need round two of crying again so immediately. There’s no rest for the wicked, though. Tomorrow night all their friends and family (and spouses) will be at the show, and then they’re leaving for another international trip the day after that. And all the while he’ll have to stand next to the person he loves - the person who fucking _lied_ to him - and force himself to ward off the misguided attention and too little, too late affections. 

Frank’s been around the Ways long enough to know that even with Mikey as a buffer both on and off stage - it won’t be enough. Nothing will be enough. His heart was fucked the moment they met all those years ago. So Frank sighs, he’ll take the pity and compassion he’s given tonight and wear it tomorrow like a scarlet letter on his chest, where only one other person can see. 

He stares at Mikey’s face in the dark and allows the selfish parts of his mind to pretend, just for a few minutes, that it's the face he really wants to sleep across from. The heaviness of the guilt and emotion eventually weigh his eyes shut and Frank drifts into an uneasy sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> ... I'm so sorry for the post-Hoboken show angst! I couldn't help myself. 
> 
>   
> You can also find me on Tumblr at [Broken-City-Sky](https://broken-city-sky.tumblr.com/)


End file.
